


No One Shoots

by notjustalittlegirl



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Gun Violence, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 18:59:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7813438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustalittlegirl/pseuds/notjustalittlegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'“Philip is gone. He was murdered.”<br/>She said it aloud, and finally she believed it. “Philip is dead.” She thought she would start crying again but didn’t, so frozen in her mindset.<br/>“Philip was murdered.” In that instant, Angelica’s mind was made up. “The police might not be able to do anything about it, but I can. I am going to avenge you, big brother.”'</p>
<p>After Phillip Hamilton is killed by George Eacker, his younger sister Angelica knows what she's going to do next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moments That The Words Don't Reach

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if this has been done before. I just wanted to write it  
> This will likely have a relationship in it at some point, I'm just not sure what it will be. Gen for now.  
> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. I don't own Hamilton or its characters. 
> 
> Work title from Ten Duel Commandments. Chapter title from It's Quiet Uptown. (If you couldn't tell, I'm lousy at coming up with titles).

Angelica Hamilton was walking arm-in-arm with her friend Theodosia Burr down 5th Avenue when life ended for her. She and Theo had been planning on shopping for new sheet music (Angie) and new books (Theo), with possibly a new dress or two thrown in. The two friends had just spotted a jewelry store and were about to dash across the street to gaze longingly at the diamonds that they would never buy when Angelica heard someone yelling, and the sound of grumbling as people were shoved aside by the figure shoving through the crowded streets of New York City.

“Angie!” Angelica turned around at the sound of her nickname, pulling Theo to a stop also. It was her aunt and namesake, Angelica Church, running towards her at breakneck speed in her high heels.

“Angie," Angelica panted and came to a stop as she reached her niece and Theodosia. "Angie, you have to come with me now. Philip's been shot!"

“What?” Angie couldn’t- or didn't want to- believe her ears. “Your older brother, he was in a duel, he got shot. It’s bad, we need to go now.”

Theodosia gasped in shock, and Angelica grabbed her niece’s hand and dragged her away. Angie just let her aunt pull her along, unaware as to where they were heading, her ears ringing and her brain feeling fuzzy, as if she might faint at any second. _They have to be mistaken. It can’t possibly be Philip_.  _There's no way._

Ignoring all foot traffic on the streets as she ran behind her aunt, Angie was barely conscious that her dress was being stepped on and torn, or that she was running into people, or that she had started to cry.

* * *

 

The moment she arrived on the walk in front of her aunt’s house, Angie burst through the door and started frantically searching the house for her older brother, shoving open the downstairs doors so hard that she created dents in the walls of her aunt's home. The aunt in question was not far behind, and snatched her arm, whirling her around so they were face to face and putting her hands steadily on each of Angie's cheeks.

“Angelica Hamilton, you need to calm down. Philip is in the dining room. Your mother and father are with him, and a doctor too. Sweetheart, you can’t go in there if you’re panicking.”

As her aunt pulled her against her shoulder, Angelica became aware that her face was wet with tears, and that she was shaking slightly. “I need to see him, please. Let me in. I won't panic, I promise.”

“Of course, we need to hurry.”

“Why, he’s not going to die, is he? _Is he?_ ” The tone in Angelica's voice was vulnerable and terrified, a tone that she couldn't remember using for a long time, since she was eight and had overheard one of her parents' conversations.

* * *

 

_"I want to come with you and the children, Eliza! I do! But I can't until I get my debt plan to Congress. If I don't work on this until it's good enough-"_

_"I know, Alexander. You lose your job. But that won't happen, I know it won't. You don't need to work every second of every day to get your plan through! You can take a break, come with us for just a little while."_

_Outside the door, Angie gasped. She had been coming downstairs to ask her parents if one of them could take her over to Theodosia's house, but that suddenly no longer seemed important. She didn't understand what a 'debt plan' was, or why her father depended on this 'Congress' for it, but she didn't care. She was about to run into the room when her father spoke again._

_"Eliza, we've had this conversation a hundred times. I can't stop until it's done, or else I'm going to lose my job. My **job,** Eliza. I know your father's rich, but we cannot rely on him or your sister for financial support if I am removed from office. I can't-"_

_At that point, Angelica couldn't handle listening quietly for any longer and burst into the room, beginning to cry. "Papa's not gonna lose his job, is he Mama? Is he?"_

_Eliza gasped as her daughter entered the room. "Oh! Angie, baby, I didn't know that you were listening. It's alright. I don't think that there's any way Papa's going to lose his job. It's going to be just fine, sweetheart."_

_"You sure?"_

_Alexander picked up his daughter, even though she was getting slightly large to sit on his lap. "No, Angie. I'm not going to lose my job. That's why I can't come upstate with you and your brothers. I need to work on my debt plan, because if I make that good enough then I definitely won't lose my job. You don't need to worry, it's all going to be okay. Papa will take care of everything."_

* * *

 

“I’m not sure, sweetheart,” Angelica responded.

As Angie walked toward to her aunt’s dining room, she tried to stop her panic. _You don't need to worry, it's all going to be okay._ She tried to reassure herself as she took the final steps into the room where her family had gathered.

That all went out the window as soon as she saw her brother. He was lying on the dinner table, and his eyes were screwed tight shut in what was obviously pain. Her parents were both sitting beside him, her mother kissing and stroking his hair and her father holding his hand tightly.

At her entrance to the room, her father looked up from Philip. “Ange, you shouldn’t be here! Angelica, I told you to bring her  _home_ , not to bring her here! She doesn't need to see this!”

“She deserves to say goodbye, Alexander. Just in case he-” Angelica couldn't finish her sentence, and Alexander swallowed heavily, then beckoned his daughter forward.

“Hey, Angel.” Philip's voice as Angie approached was weak, and she could instantly tell that he was in complete agony. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, she knew. There was the clenching of his hand in their father's, the way he bit his lip, the weakness of his normally bright smile.

There was blood all over him, but the worst of it was on his right arm, which was completely covered with it. Angie didn't know much about medicine, but she could tell that his wound was probably still bleeding. 

“Philip.” Angie ran forward and gripped his other hand tightly. The side that she occupied was his right, and she could see him grimace as she grabbed onto his hand. She pulled away as she realized that her hold on his hand was causing him more pain than he was already in.

He reached out and took her hand back, squeezing as hard as he could, which was not very firmly.

“Please don’t leave me, Philip,” Angie pleaded, tears falling faster as she witnessed her brother trying to keep up his facade for her sake, and likely her mother's. "I can't- You can't die!"

“I’m sorry, Angel. I’m not sure I can do that. You’re going to have a great life, baby sister. Take care of Ma and Pop and our siblings. They're going to need you.” The hot, messy tears she shed were staining Angelica’s cheeks and eyes red.

“Philip, I love you so much. I don't tell you so enough. How did this happen to you?” Philip coughed, and grimaced. He was trying to continue keeping his facade of strength, but his little sister could tell that the pain was beginning to overwhelm him.

“I was in a duel. Guy called George Eacker was insulting Pop. He fired on seven instead of ten. I love you, Angel.”

Angie gripped Philip’s hand harder at a nod from him as their mother began singing quietly in French, trying to keep her eldest son awake. “Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit.” Philip was weakly repeating the numbers back to Eliza, until he wasn’t. His hand when slack in his sister's.

Her mother screamed, and Angelica instantly ran forward to catch her sister's limp body before she hit the floor. Her father buried his head in his hands, and Angelica could hear his broken sobs. Angie herself continued to hold onto her older brother’s lifeless hand, head spinning. The last thing she was aware of before her head hit the floor in a faint was a voice screaming in her ear. She wasn’t quite sure if it was her mother or herself.

* * *

 

The next thing Angelica knew, she was waking up in her bed. The feather pillow underneath the sizeable bruise on the back of her head was soft, and her blankets were folding in around her. A warm hand swept across her forehead, and she opened her eyes slowly to find her father.

“Was I dreaming, Papa?” Even to her own ears, Angie’s voice was shaky and weak.

Alexander shut his eyes in pain, and new tears sprang to his eyes. “No, baby.” It was obvious to Angie that her father had no idea what to say to his daughter as soon as he spoke again.

“I’m so sorry.” Alexander’s voice was shaky, and he had no idea what to tell Angie other than that simple, almost meaningless, sentence. She shook his hand off her forehead and buried her head under the pillow. Angie barely registered her father's footsteps as he staggered from her room, so consumed was she by the one thought that had consumed her mind.

_George Eacker. George Eacker. George Eacker._ She fell back asleep with the name implanted in her dreams.

Angie woke up when the stars were still high in the sky. She wasn't quite sure if it was late night or early morning, or even what day it was. All she knew was that the house was silent in a way that it hadn't been in her recent memory.

“Philip is gone. He was murdered.”

She said it aloud, and finally she believed it. “Philip is dead.” She thought she would start crying again but didn’t, so frozen in her mindset.

“Philip was murdered.” In that instant, Angelica’s mind was made up. “The police might not be able to do anything about it, but I can. I am going to avenge you, big brother.”


	2. Hold Your Child As Tight As You Can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from It's Quiet Uptown

It was still dark outside when Angie slipped silently out from under her covers and tiptoed down the stairs towards the sitting room. The carpeting on the floors masked her footfalls, but still she was extra-careful, not wanting to wake any of her remaining brothers or her little sister. She was surprised that she had enough energy to make it all the way down and collapse onto one of the couches instead of somewhere on the stairs, given the bump to her head or the taxing events of the previous day. 

“Angelica, what are you doing up so early?”

The carpet was indeed so good at masking footfalls that Angie didn't notice the entrance of her father into the room until he spoke from behind her. Alexander looked at his oldest daughter, and she glanced back for only a second. However, even a second was long enough to notice the change in his eyes.

His eyes looked exactly as they had the night before, namely shattered and on the verge of tears, but with a new addition: Alexander Hamilton looked tired enough to collapse and fall asleep right there on the floor.

“Papa," Angie asked quietly. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

“No. I had things to do.” Deciding it was better not to ask how work could possibly busy her father's mind on the very night after his oldest child had been killed, Angie settled on asking a different, albeit no less risky, question. 

“Did Ma let you back in the bed?”

Alexander bit his lip and ran a hand through his disheveled and tangled ponytail, as if having an internal debate as to whether he ought to reprimand his daughter for once again poking her nose into her parents' marital affairs. She had done so, ever since her father had published the Reynolds pamphlet. She knew, rationally, that it was a bad idea. She just couldn't help it. 

Alexander evidently thought that it would be better to let Angie's slightly inappropriate question slide this one time, and simply answered her plainly.

“No. I slept in my office again.”

Before Angie could respond, a cry echoed from upstairs, obviously coming from the nursery where Lizzie, the youngest of the Hamilton siblings, slept. Not trusting her exhausted and grief-stricken father's motor skills when holding a fussy baby, Angie jumped up and climbed back up the stairs to her only sister’s room.

When she arrived,  the little girl was standing up in her crib, her tiny curls frizzing just like Angie’s often did in the morning. Her diaper was likely wet, and she was sucking on her thumb. Angie waited a moment to see if Eliza would show up to heed Lizzie's cries, but her mother didn’t.  

“Hello, Lizzie.” The baby stopped crying when she realized that Angie was in the room and made grabby hands at her sister, tears still staining her little face. Angie picked her up and noticed, trivially, that the little girl's nightgown was almost the mirror of her own. Lizzie snatched onto Angelica’s own frizzy curls and laid her head on her shoulder, snuggling into her neck and continuing to sniffle softly, calmed by being picked up.

“Do you want to go see Papa?” Angie felt Lizzie nod into her neck at the word 'Papa', and so started down the stairs carrying her little sister on her hip. The baby wrapped her arms around Angie's, and Angie paused on the stairs to give Lizzie a kiss on her messy curls.

Alexander appeared at the bottom of the stairs, probably hearing Angie's heavier footfalls due to the extra weight of Lizzie cradled in her arms. “Hello, Lizzie.”

Angie carefully handed her sister off to her father, who cuddled the littlest Hamilton against his chest. “I love you girls so much. So,  _so_ much. I didn’t say that to Philip enough, and I regret it so much. I love you so much.” His voice as he spoke seemed almost broken.

On a whim, Angie reached out and hugged her father. Alexander seemed surprised, as he was clearly not used to physical affection from his older children. However, he shifted Lizzie in his arms so that he could hug his other daughter. After a hug, one which Angie had to end, she slipped out of his arms and headed for the stairs again. As her father squeezed Lizzie tighter, Angie took the stairs two at a time up toward her father’s office.

She smiled as she entered, a smile that would've seen out of place to any other. Placed carelessly on Alexander's desk was the gun that he had given to Philip for his duel. There was blood on it, droplets and splotches, and, had Angie eaten breakfast already that morning, she would likely have vomited on the spot at the sight of her older brother's blood staining the pistol. Careful not to touch the blood, Angie picked up the gun and slipped it under her nightgown, along with a bullet clip that she stole from her father's desk as well.

Running back to her room, she hurriedly stashed the gun and bullets underneath her mattress before anyone could see.

* * *

By nine, every Hamilton was out of bed and gathered together in the sitting room, save for one. Alexander had told the maids to prepare breakfast for the children, as if trying to maintain some facade of normality. No one was talking. The boys had all crowded onto one couch and James, who had particularly worshiped Philip, was clinging so tightly to Alex Jr., looking like he would never let go. It was as if he thought that if he did, another brother would slip right through his fingers like the dirt he had enjoyed playing in when he was younger. 

Of all the Hamiltons, only Eliza remained missing. It was rare, perhaps even unheard of, for Eliza Hamilton to ignore through the cries of her children. However, Eliza had slept through Lizzie's morning tears, then those of the youngest Hamiltons as their father finally told them that their brother was dead.

"Papa," Angie whispered in Alexander's ear. "I'm going to see about Ma."

Her father nodded, still stroking William's hair gently, and Angie left the room again.

* * *

"Mama?" When Angie entered her mother's room, Eliza's eyes were open, blankly staring at the ceiling. She was buried under a heap of blankets, and Angie approached carefully, not wanting to startle her mother. "Mama, would you like any breakfast?"

Eliza didn't respond, and her daughter came slightly closer. "Mama, please say something."

Eliza let out a sob, but not a word. Angie had thought that nothing could make having watched her brother die any worse, but this did. Watching her mother lie in bed, practically comatose, was not only terribly sad but also completely terrifying.

In her eighteen years, Angie had never seen her mother like this. Not even when Alexander had cheated on her had Eliza shown any sign that she was broken, save for the pile of ashes that Angie had found left in the fireplace the morning after the Reynolds Pamphlet had been released. A pile of ashes that had obviously come from Alexander's letters, if the one remaining envelope corner was anything to judge by. Angie had thought it was impossible to visibly break her mother, that Eliza would keep her grief inside and be strong for her children. But not this time.  

"Mama? Mama, you're scaring me!"

"Leave me alone, Angelica. I need to be alone. Please leave." Eliza's voice was so quiet that Angie could barely hear it. It sounded like she had just finished crying, or was just about to start. Likely, one of those things was true. Angie left Eliza's room, and knew that she heard a sob from the other side of the door.

She didn't want to go back into the sitting room. She didn't want to see her siblings crying anymore. She didn't want to see her father's face when he realized just how bad her mother was. Instead of returning to her family, where she knew her words would be just as lost as they were on Eliza, she headed for the front door.

"I'm going to make it better, mother." She whispered.

 


	3. Your Lieutenant, When There's Reckoning To Be Reckoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angelica has an important question for Theodosia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from 10 Duel Commandments

Her feet knew the way. Angie didn't even need to think beyond the occasional  _turn here_ as she walked as quickly as she could without running towards Theodosia's house. Running, she had found, could make people suspect you. She was only slightly concerned about running into others as she took the turns that led to her destination.

As she flew across the sidewalks and streets, she pulled up her curls into a ponytail mirroring her father's from the morning. It seemed like no time at all before Angie was practically running up Theodosia's walk. The Burrs kept their house nearly immaculate, with help from the servants that resided there. The flowers were in bloom, and seemed to be inappropriate to Angie.  _Nothing should be blooming now that Philip's dead._

Trying to ignore the cruel irony of Theodosia's beautiful garden, Angie climbed the front steps and banged on the door, praying that either her friend or Aaron was home.

Aaron Burr answered the door himself, looking annoyed at the loud and insistent banging that Angie hadn't stopped since she'd arrived on the doorstep. When he saw her, however, Aaron's face softened noticeably and he beckoned her inside.

"Oh, Miss Hamilton. Come on in, please. I heard about your brother this morning, and I would like to offer my most sincere condolences. I assume you're here to see my daughter."

Angie nodded, stony faced, as Aaron called up the stairs for Theodosia. 

"She should be down in a moment. In all seriousness, Miss Hamilton, please pass along my sympathy to your family." 

"Thank you, Mr. Burr." Angie knew what she was expected to say. She supposed that she would be saying it quite a lot over the next few days.

The two stood awkwardly in the entryway for several minutes, and Angie was about to ask what on earth was taking Theodosia so long, but before she could she heard the quick pattering of feet on the stairs and found herself wrapped up in a bone-cracking hug from behind.  "Angie, love, I'm so sorry! When Mrs. Church took you away, I was praying so hard. Then Papa told me this morning that Philip was gone and I was wondering if I should come over, but I didn't know if you'd want to see me or not!"

Angie wrapped her arms around her friend and inhaled the sweet scent of her flowery perfume, almost melting. The two stood by the door for almost two minutes, Theodosia rocking Angie back and forth in her arms as if she were a child who'd just woken up from a terrible nightmare. It was nice, until Angie became aware that Aaron was still standing there as well, clearly wondering if there was something else he should say to her.

"Can we go upstairs?" Theodosia nodded quickly and, after exchanging a loaded glance with her father, pulled her best friend up the stairs to her room.

Theodosia's room was one of the biggest rooms in the house, likely the product of being an only child. The bed was pressed into a corner to make room for Theo's bookshelves and her vanity. There was also a luxurious armchair with a table next to it, and a pile of very thick books piled on top of it.

The familiar setting of the room was where Angie remembered, several years ago, finding Theo huddled under her piles blankets and sobbing after she had heard that her mother was dead. Angie had sat on the edge of the bed and tried awkwardly to soothe her friend by rubbing her back, then her tangled hair, whispering the best words of comfort that her ten year old self could think of.

Now, as they entered her room, Theodosia walked Angie over to the bed and held her. Her best friend's familiar arms wrapped around her, combined with the harsh and unrelenting fact that her older brother Philip was dead, caused fresh tears to spring to her eyes. She tried, desperately, to hide them. She was the oldest now. She had to be the strong one. 

Theo noticed anyway. "Angie. It's okay to cry, you know. It's okay to need someone, especially this soon after... You don't need to hide from me. Ever." 

"I'm n-not here to c-cry. That's-that's n-not why I'm h-here," Angie stuttered out brokenly. Theodosia raised an eyebrow, but waited for her friend to continue rather than ask. It was a minute before the other girl managed to compose herself enough to keep talking.

"I'm g-going to kill him."

"What? Who? Angie, I don't understand." Theodosia gazed at Angie, concern evident in her eyes. She genuinely had no idea what her best friend was talking about until the other clarified, tears trickling to a halt and steely determination filling her features.

"Eacker. The man who shot my brother. I'm going to kill him."

"What?" Theodosia gasped, shocked at her friend's words. "No! Angie, you can't-"

"I can. And I will."

"Then why did you come here? Just to tell me that you're planning to _kill_ someone?"

After her best friend's proclamation that she was planning to kill a man, Theo thought that nothing could shock her any more during their conversation, but she was completely unprepared for the words that came out of Angie's mouth next.  

"No. I came here to ask you to be my second."

" _What?_ Angelica Hamilton, you have to be joking!"

Instinctively, Theodosia knew that her friend was certainly not joking. This was not something that Angie would joke about. However, she did hope that maybe Angie had temporarily taken leave of her senses and would quickly pronounce that she had taken temporary leave of her senses. She had no such luck.

"No, Theodosia. I am most certainly _not_ joking. Eacker killed my brother in a duel, it seems fitting that I should kill him in one. I know that it's slightly out of order to find a second before you've even issued the challenge, but I say screw that. You're my best friend, so it only seemed natural to ask you."

"Angie! A duel? Are you kidding me? You could get killed! You don't know the first thing about shooting a gun!"

Theodosia tried fruitlessly to reason with her friend. Angie had always been the more impulsive of the two, but Theo had never dreamed that her friend would even consider doing something this stupid, bordering on insanity.

"I watched Papa when he was teaching Philip how to shoot, when we were kids. Remember? You were there. It can't be that hard! The mention of Alexander gave Theo an idea, and she played her desperate trump card. "Angie, what about your family? Your parents? They just lost Philip, imagine what they'll do if they lose you too!" 

Of everything Theodosia had said after Angie had confessed her plans, this was the only thing that seemed to give the other girl even brief pause. A brief flash of _something_ flickered across her face, maybe regret, but was just as quickly replaced by a clenched jaw and determined eyes.

"They won't. Because I'm not going to lose."

Theodosia sighed, realizing that her friend was not going to be swayed. "Okay. I'll do it."

"Wait, you will?" Angie looked genuinely surprised at her friend's response, mouth dropping open for a second and raising her eyebrows hopefully.

"Yes. I still think that it's insane but, if you're really going to do this, I'm with you." 

Angie wrapped Theodosia in another hug, and the other closed her eyes. _What was going to happen?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super happy with this chapter, but hey. It's done. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
